[Sweetwine Woods] Surreal Searches

[Vega]

6th Zi'da, 717
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Vega's familiar was here, somewhere, in the Sweetwine Woods and they were close, so very close she knew. The night before, after they'd fought the oh-deer, they'd set up camp, albeit a temporary one and Vega had been unsettled all night. She'd finally fallen asleep curled into his arms, though she still muttered her way through the night, her sleep fitful. As they set off that morning, she glanced at him and gave a slightly rueful smile. "I'm sorry, I kept you awake 'alf the night. An' not in a fun way." She didn't really know what to do about that, if it continued, but they'd deal with it if they had to, she figured. Surely, this familiar would be around here soon.

Still, they'd had breakfast and got moving. It was absolutely freezing and the weather was howling around them in a storm which seemed to brewing into quite a large one. Equally, though, it could blow itself out in a moment, there was just no telling. "I'm fairly sure," she said, as they exited the camp, "tha' this is the right way. I wouldn't mind if I could dream 'er properly, it's jus' like she's always on the periphery. Other than that once." Vega shook her head, then bumped her shoulder against his and grinned. "Thanks, Arlo. For, like, you know, bein' there from the beginnin' of this. Remember, when I thought I was goin' doolaly, 'earin' bird noises?" He'd believed her, and he'd told her that. It had meant a lot then, and that they were in this final part and were together still? Well, it was simply put. "It means a lot, is all. Shurrup."

The area they were going through was fairly easy going and, just as the weather started to clear a little, they came to a wide river. It was still a little way in the distance when Vega stopped and moved over to look at something. "Arlo, look at this," sh said, surprise in her voice. She pulled out what looked for all the world like half a turtle-shell of deep emerald."It's beautiful. Look." It seemed to have been washed or deposited or even dropped there, the stones were a deep green and it was absolutely beautiful. "You know, biqaj normally wear jewelry, as much for always 'aving somethin' to trade." She didn't, she had no jewelry that he'd ever seen. "I wonder if I could learn to make stuff out of things like this? I mean. You know. Trinkets." She grinned up at him as she said that word, well aware of their conversation previously about trinket wives.

She was handing him the shell to look at when a voice boomed. Literally, boomed. Whoever was speaking seemed to think that shouting was better.

"HOLD!", he called out and Vega looked up in some surprise as, striding out of the treeline towards them was a man. He was tall, dark skinned and black hair held back in a tight ponytail with intense brown eyes. Vega considered that she could point out that those were soulful eyes, but she didn't think Arlo would appreciate it. "Thieves! Desecration! INFIDELS!" He was wearing well-worn thick leather armour and a long sword and knife at his side. He looked like he might be pretty well versed in using them.

"Wot?" Vega asked and he turned to her eyes suddenly seeming to be ablaze with fury. "DO NOT SPEAK, WITCH!" Vega stood up and her hands went to her hips. "What did you say?" But he did not seem interested in even hearing her. No, he turned to Arlo and drew his sword. "You summoned her. It." Vega spluttered at that, but Booming-Voice-Soulful-Eyes seemed insistent. "Send it back to the Beneath, foul sorcerer!"

"Arlo," Vega whispered quietly. "I think. I mean, I might be wrong. But I think we've jus' met a nutter."

Off Topic

location

[Arlo Creede]

"It's alright," Arlo told her when Vega apologized for keeping him awake through the night. "I do some of my best thinking when I'm staring with red rimmed eyes at the ceiling." He was teasing her naturally and wasn't about to complain. Though Arlo did like to think that somehow the best ideas came from the dead of night. Besides, while he didn't know much about familiars and those sorts of connections, it made sense in a way that the closer she got the more she'd feel the tug.

The cold was miserable. No matter where they were on Idalos, it was, this time of the arc. But he'd filled them up with a morning meal intended to stick with them awhile and keep them moving. And he was wearing so many layers of clothing that he felt sort of lost beneath them all. And he was still cold. Lyova was riding in the brim of his hat, constantly complaining about the cold herself no matter how many times Arlo pointed out that a creature such as her couldn't feel too hot or too cold. She'd only argued that she could imagine it, and that was enough. "Where else would I be?" he asked when Vega thanked him for being there since the start.

He was busy slogging through the snow, and working on pinning down the exact direction and likely distance of a free running body of water he could hear but couldn't quite see yet. As a result he'd have missed the strange turtle shell that Vega pulled out of the snow. And it wasn't from any ordinary turtle either. He'd never seen anything like it. "You think those gems are genuine?" he wondered while tracing a gloved finger over several of the green stones. Of course he'd noticed that the Biqaj seemed to like wearing jewelry of all sorts, while like Vega he tended not to wear any. Of if he did it tended not to be very long before he left it behind as an offering to Cassion.

"Why not?" he said when she wondered about making and selling things. "Do it when you please and not when it doesn't, and it might be a good way to pick up some nels as we go." Much better than regular, gainful employment he figured. Arlo was just about to pull out his knife and see if he could pry one of the gems off the shell, when he was interrupted by a booming call, jumped and would have dropped the knife anyway. So instead, because it wasn't exactly the friendliest of greetings, Arlo reached back and took his bow in one fluid motion, and knocked an arrow before raising it.

'Not a step closer!" he warned, though clearly the man wasn't listening. "What desecration, what thieves?" he called back, though he was all too ready to let loose an arrow. So far as he knew, this wasn't any sort of sacred ground. Did he mean the turtle shell? Might as well ask then. "You mean that?" he asked, jerking his head in direction of the shell that Vega had in her hand. No matter the answer, things didn't get any clearer. Witch? Summoned? Sorcerer? "Now wait just a damned bit," he shot back, a deep scowl on his face. "You might be right," he whispered back to Vega. "The problem with nutters though is they tend not to know it, but think the rest of the world's gone mad instead."

At any rate, Arlo had a measure of ground in mind that he wasn't inclined to let the madman close between them, and if need be he'd enforce that by firing on the...knight, or whatever he was. "I think you've got us confused with somebody else. She's no witch, I'm no sorcerer. Look elsewhere," he insisted. That armor the man wore looked sturdy enough maybe to stand up to an arrow. And he looked somehow like he could handle a sword. Arlo's preference wasn't swordplay though so maybe if need be he could bypass the armor completely, and cripple the man's sword hand while he was at it. A master bowman by now, he had plenty of practice and that was the plan. The man kept coming, Arlo intended to fire on him, aiming at his sword hand.

[Vega]

Vega snorted and punched him when he said that he did his best thinking through red rimmed eye. "Don't push yer luck, Creede, I'm a Sevr'yrn on the edge, you know." There was no point thumping him, though, she concluded. He was under so many layers that he probably didn't even feel it. Vega looked at him, stopping suddenly in her tracks and she frowned. "Arlo. Why aren't you 'oldin' yer chicken leg? It keeps you warm, you dweeb." Plus, if he had that chicken leg, he'd probably wear less layers and so her thumps would work better, she added. But where else would he be? She glanced at him with a teasing glance. "Somewhere warm an' sunny with scantily clad waitresses an' a library full of books for you to read? Each one filled with a thousan' stories that not even Cassion 'imself has 'eard of em." In other words, she was pleased he was here with her and he'd just have to work that out for himself.

But the shell was gorgeous and Vega had to admit to being entranced by it. The deep green colour was beautiful and more than that, it was just so unusual. Were they real gems? She shrugged slightly. "I dunno. Maybe not? But still lovely, innit?" His response to her wondering about making things was what it would always be, of course and Vega nodded. "Yeah, I could get like a kit for it an' learn. Might be good for makin' some money." Her grin was genuine as she considered, apparently entirely seriously, "I mean, it's better than learnin' to cook, innit? An' it's another thing to do what isn't cookin'" She couldn't maintain the serious look though and the sides of her eyes wrinkled in amusement. "Win-win for us both, eh?"

However, it was far from a win-win when the large, obviously well armed and armoured chap came over to them. Arlo was quick to draw a bow, but Vega didn't, not wanting to spook the man into doing anything foolish. His booming voice and the weird words he was shouting were one thing, but he drew his second sword and spun the pair of them around in a rather flashy-looking manouvere. "I mean the red-haired witch touching the sacred shells!", he said, in reply. He looked at Arlo when he spoke, but his sword remained pointed in Vega's general direction. She was bristling, ready to jump forward and pummel him, it had to be said. She didn't, though, although her hand fell to her own sword and the man raised his blade in response.

"It is SACRILEGE!", he was obviously agitated, but his stance was good, solid and firm, his swords were good quality and his armour was good. "Look, I'll put it back down. See? 'ere it is, goin' back down." Vega moved to lower the shell back to the ground and the knight shook his head.

"It is in the prophecy. The red haired witch has touched the sacred shell. She must die!", Vega breathed in and knew that, within the next few trill, Arlo was going to shoot the guy.

"I'm afraid, old chap, he's right." The voice came from another man, exiting the treeline to the side of them. He had a crossbow in his hands, pointing at Vega. Vega, for her part, sighed and muttered, "Oh, nuts." The second man, and the third and fourth, all had good armour, good swords and bows. They also all wore a strange sigil on their cloaks. A single eye with a knife plunged through it. "Bart here, he gets a touch excited," the second man said, pointing to the first. Of the three crossbows now trained on them, all three were pointing at Vega.

"My name is Adam," they second man said. He walked forward, just a step. "We are the brothers of the pierced eye." Vega looked at him and asked, apparently calmly although Arlo knew her better. "An' is that an exclusive to nutter club, or can anyone join?" Adam looked at her and shook his head. "Silence, witch," he said and Vega let out a low, steady stream of Rakahi.

"The brothers of the pierced eye serve prophecy," Adam explained to Arlo. "And a recurrent one has been of a redhaired woman who defiles the sacred shells. This sets in place a catastrophic series of events which ends with Scalvoris sinking into the boiling oceans." Vega looked at him incredulously, fury on her face. "Well since I've already done it, maybe you boys should be leggin' it 'ome. Quick smart, cos you know..." She stopped talking, though, as Adam turned his crossbow to Arlo. Her lip curled in a snarl but she said nothing. "If your witch speaks again, I'm afraid we're going to have to hurt you. We understand," Adam said, his voice the very epitome of reason, "that you are under her thrall, but we have to kill her."

Vega was standing right next to Arlo and she determined in that moment that, if anyone started moving, she was going to jump and rip off Adam's head with her bare hands.

"He could invoke trial by combat on her behalf," Bart said and Adam glanced but said nothing. There was a flash of annoyance, though. "It is true. You could represent her in one to one combat against one of us. We are the best swordsmen on Idalos, trained since birth. If you can survive, it will be a sign that this is not the witch who brings about the destruction of the world." Vega put her hand on Arlo's arm and, if he looked at her, she shook her head. They could fight together, she signed. She'd fight them. Don't be stupid.

"Well," said Adam with a smile. "What is your decision?"

[Arlo Creede]

Why wasn't he carrying the odd little trinket he'd ended up with, after emerging from the fog? Simple. "I'd look silly walking round with a wooden chicken leg in my hand, that's why," Arlo had told her. But when she'd suggested an alternate place that he might like to be, rather than wide eyes at the ceiling while she muttered in her sleep, he'd snorted and grinned. "If there were scantily clad waitresses hovering round me, I'd be short a pair of eyes for the book in my lap."

But if making trinkets to sell kept her out of his cooking box and away from his fire, then as she said, it was a winning arrangement on both sides. And it didn't really matter if the gem looking bits were genuine or not. They were nice, and if she made something out of them, then surely there'd be people who'd like and pay good nels for it. "We'd be a little like gypsies then wouldn't we?" he teased, and remembered back, growing up on the farm where his step-father had very little of good to say about travelers and peddlers, while his mother had thought they were curious and romantic.

All that was forgotten though when the madman who'd come out of the woods refused to let up. Arlo kept his bow trained on the man, eyeing his sword hand. It grew more complicated when the man pulled out a second one and looked able to handle them both quite well. One would still be better than two, but Arlo didn't fire on him yet. And wouldn't unless the man came closer. But when he claimed that the witch must die, Arlo took more offense than he had already. "Now wait just an Immortal's damned bit," he said, and would have said more, had three more men not appeared out of nowhere.

They seemed to all be fixated on Vega and not him. Oh nuts, was right. All of them. He had to agree with Vega's assessment. "That's not even a thing. You've made it all up. She's no witch and even if there was one, there's got to be a million women out there with red hair," he pointed out. Were there even a million mortals in all of Idalos? Arlo wasn't sure, but he'd stand by it anyway. As for their prophesy, such as it was, Vega had a point there too. "If that was true, we'd already be past poached by now. All of us." Of course the ringleader had a point. Arlo was in Vega's thrall, in a sense. But he wasn't going to be throwing fuel on the fire by saying so.

A duel? He didn't like the sound of it. Not at all, but he wasn't sure there was an alternative here. He could take out one, maybe, but by the time he got to the second with a second bolt from his bow, at least two of them would be firing at Vega if not all three. The best swordsmen on Idalos didn't sound very reassuring. But then madmen tended to exaggerate. Still, it wasn't really a decision at all. He had no choice. The best Arlo could hope for, is that his new sword, the one given him by Cassion, or U'frek maybe, he just wasn't sure, would serve him well. It was a very fine weapon. The weight was perfect for him and so was the balance. This wasn't the way he'd wanted to try it out for the first time.

"She's not a witch," he told them again. But since they clearly weren't hearing it, Arlo put his bow aside, shrugged out of his cloak dropped his sack and handed his hat to Vega. "Hold this for me?" he whispered. "If you get the chance sooner, or if this doesn't go like I hope it will, run. Don't stop running, and don't look back."

Then he turned and eyed the four men, taking their measure. The way they stood, trying to figure out which one of them might be the lesser of the four with a sword. Eventually he decided one of them. "You then," he said, and drew his sword. At the least, he planned on forcing his opponent to make the first move. And he'd rely not just on his own swordsmanship to act in kind, but unarmed combat, acrobatic maneuvers, whatever it took.

[Vega]

When he had said that he'd look silly, quick as a flash Vega had responded with "er. Silly-er. Besides, you numpty, it jus' needs to be touchin' yer skin, don't it? Put it on a cord round yer neck, under your shirt." Shaking her head slightly, she wondered aloud how someone so dense could have gotten a Letter from the University when it was obviously a struggle walking and talking at the same time. In the hope that it succeeded, she stuck a foot out to attempt to cause him to stumble. She did it obviously, though, not wanting to risk actually hurting him. His quip about not looking at a book with scantily clad women surrounding him earned him a more forceful shove, but she grinned as she did it. He was a young man with an appreciation of the female form, she knew that about him and had for quite a time. Strangely, that didn't bother her in the slightest, it was when women had their eyes on him that she went a little crazy.

"What're gypsies?" Vega asked, but really they didn't get the chance to discuss it as, instead this bunch of madmen came out and started talking drivel. Utter and complete drivel and Vega knew that Arlo was itching to get in there and smack someone. She put her hand on his arm, as he insisted that they waited an Immortals-damned bit, but he was wound right up, they were all pointing crossbows and bows and talking about her being a witch. Vega sighed slightly as Arlo started to move and she shook her head. "What're you doin'? What? An' if you do I'll kill you." The last bit was said to one of the men, who seemed to be about ready to shoot Arlo as Vega spoke. She had such fury in her eyes that he paused. "Cos if I am a witch, I promise you, you'll be the first to find out when I flay yer flesh from yer bones an' if I'm not? Well then I'll peel it instead, but still, you'll be the firs' one I kill if you 'arm an 'air on 'is 'ead." But she couldn't protect him from all of them, any more than he could protect her from them and Vega felt frustration building in her.

The best swordsmen in Idalos? Vega felt fear grip her and then, of all things, Arlo handed her his hat and Vega shook her head, grabbing on to his arm. "No, Arlo you can't do that. I can't let one of them 'urt you. I'll fight them, please don't." She was upset, there was no doubting it, but equally she knew that the only way they were going to do this was by playing along. "If you suggest that to me again, an' you survive, I'm gonna kill you meself. Would you run? Even when I told you to you never did." She had, she realised, told him to run more than once and he never had. That was before now, before they were together like this.But she knew, they were in a situation here of either they both got killed or he tried to get them both out of it. So, she took the hat. Just in case, ignoring the men she whispered back to him. "Yer gonna win, cos if you were gonna die I'd be tellin' you I love you. An' I'm not tellin you that. I'm tellin' you, you'd better win or I'll get testy."

But the one that Arlo chose shook his head, chuckling. Adam spoke again, "You do not choose. I do. Bart, you hold the witch. Tonna, you will fight." Bert moved forward and took Vega by the arm. Strangely for her, she let him. She struggled a little bit, just enough for Bart to know that she was there, for him to hold her with both hands. That was what she wanted and Vega looked at Arlo and nodded her head.

Tonna, the one who was not the one Arlo had picked, looked to be flexible and strong; he had a wiry frame and the gleam of fanaticism in his eyes. He pulled out his sword and he swung it around a few times. "Showy," Vega said, Bart pulling her closer and giving her a little shake, but she ignored it. "An' his stance sucks, too. Best swordsmen in Idalos? My bouncy..." Whatever she was going to say was muffled by Bart putting a hand over her mouth. Vega's eyes gleamed, apparently quite pleased.

But Arlo, meanwhile, had his own fish to fry, so to speak. Tonna fought with only one sword and he seemed content after her had swung it around in a most show-off manner. He stepped forward, moving in to slice at Arlo's face, cutting in a downward slope and twisting his sword to continue the blow into Arlo's shoulder. Now, as he made that move, Arlo would realise that the man he was fighting was good. He was certainly good. But he was not the best swordsman on Idalos, not by a long shot. Judging by how he moved, Vega was better with a sword these trials than Tonna. He was a bit better than Arlo, no doubt, but then he also seemed rather slow and... planted on the ground.

[Arlo Creede]

Gypsies, Arlo had told her when she'd asked, according to his stepfather were vagabonds and thieves. Shiftless liars, con men and cheats. But his mother clearly had had a different view. They were romantics, wanderers, storytellers, musicians..."Travelers," he'd said, choosing to define them in the simplest of terms. Making their livings on the road, traveling in brightly painted caravans.

Ultimately though, one bow aimed at him meant fewer of them trained on Vega. It was still two too many. "I have to," he insisted though when she asked him not to fight, and while he shrugged his way out of his cloak and handed her his hat. "And that's different," he argued when she said she wouldn't run. When she reminded him of times past when he wouldn't do it. It was different because the roles were reversed this time, and in his mind there was nothing hypocritical about it. The odds weren't on their side and what good would it do for them both to be dead? Not that he was going to lose. He'd just rather know that she'd run, if it came to it.

When one of them grabbed hold of her though, everything in him wanted to leap at the man and pound him into a bloody pulp. It was only Vega's expression, the way she taunted him, her eyes that gave Arlo pause and made him swallow the impulse. If he won the match, then he'd pound the bastard. So far as he was concerned though, if it was his to make the challenge, then it ought to be his to choose his opponent. But madmen weren't typically inclined to logical arguments. There was no sense in wasting his breath.

Besides, as he squared off with his opponent, he wasn't completely unhappy with the arrangement. Tonna was a fanatic. It shone in his eyes and oozed out his pores. All passion and very little logic or forethought. He could use that to his advantage. And the sword that he'd brought back from U'frek's challenge, in his hand felt like a natural extension of his arm. No better time than now to use it. Of course he wasn't as good with a sword as he was with a bow. But what he lacked in sword skills, he more than made up for in balance, finesse, improvisation and flexibility. Those were an acrobat's tools. But they weren't half bad when it came to fighting.

Tonna was good, and as he moved in, Arlo had a choice. He could avoid the slice to the face and shoulder by weaving and ducking away. Much like he'd done when he'd goaded Vega's cousin into a fight and worn him down before striking. Or he could combine that knack with swordplay and that's what he did, intuitively knowing which was the most effective in this particular instance.

He shifted just enough to bring himself out of alignment with Tonna's blade, while at the same time lifting his weapon into a sweeping arc that would catch his opponent's blade, push it up, around and downwards, finally turning his own blade in an attempt to lop off the man's hand at the wrist before moving to distance himself and block any other incoming blow. If it went as planned, he'd have at least blocked the man's blow and thrown him off balance. If it went really well, Tonna for all his troubles would lose a hand in the process.

[Vega]

When she got him back to the camp Vega was going to fight Arlo, she decided. She was going to arm wrestle with him, fight him, whatever it took for him to not be such a.... she didn't know what the word was but it took all her self control to not kick him in the shin. It was not different, no matter what he said and she was going to damn well punch it into him until he understood that. She wasn't running and leaving him any more than he would run and leave her. Come to that, if any of these bunch of nutters harmed him she was going to get testy. But now wasn't the time for that, so she took his hat and her hand grabbed his. Damn him, but how did they get into this situation? However it was, she was fairly sure that it was all his fault.

Bart's hand on her arm, another on her mouth was exactly what she wanted, Arlo had read her eyes more than correctly. The way that Vega thought about it, by Bart 'holding' her like this (and she used the term very loosely), the others thought that she was contained, which she was sure she wasn't, and they thought therefore that they didn't need to pay attention to her. They were, she was sure, wrong on both counts.

But that was for in a moment, in this one, Vega had her full attention on Arlo, on what he was doing. If this Tonna bloke hurt him, she was going to move, but she couldn't deny the feeling she would never admit to; that he was doing this, fighting this man for her, telling her to run, all of it? It annoyed her. Yes, that was it, she was sure. A strange sort of almost pleased and a little bit protected and enjoying that feeling ~ well, that just added to the annoyance. Men.

Her breath caught in her throat as Arlo and Tonna started to fight, Tonna moving in to cut at Arlo, but he moved out of the way of the blow with the kind of ease and grace which meant they were well matched, the two of them. Arlo might even have the edge, Vega thought, because of how his acrobatics worked. His counter attack was good and Tonna pulled his hand back, out of the way, just in the nick of time. He was off balance, there was no doubting it and he lurched towards Arlo trying to stab him in the stomach, but it was not as clean or skilled as it had been. More than that, though, he was angry, determined and frustrated and he let out a roar as he lunged to try and skewer Arlo. Of course, that meant that it wasn't well balanced; Tonna was over extended and vulnerable.

It was taking everything Vega had to not get involved and then she felt Bart's hand on her tightening and in a way she really didn't like. That wasn't happening, so Vega stamped he foot down on his, hard at the same moment that she moved her head back, fast and fiercely, the back of her head connecting with his nose. Whilst Arlo probably hadn't noticed Bart's wandering hands, he would almost certainly hear the howl of pain as Vega's head connected with his nose which was now pouring blood. Up until that moment, the others were entirely focused on Arlo, but the howl from Bart wasn't likely to go unnoticed or not responded to, yet really, there was very little Arlo could do since he was rather busy.

[Arlo Creede]

He'd have preferred to have sliced Tonna's hand right off at the wrist, leaving him with a souvenir to remember them by...unless he was ultimately forced to kill, or be killed instead. He narrowly missed doing it in fact, but at least he'd managed to accomplish what had been a secondary goal. To frustrate, to confuse, to anger beyond the point of reason. And so the man lunged at him in a way that lacked control, forethought or balance. And Arlo was more than ready to take advantage of it.

Shifting his center of balance, knees bent, he twisted his upper body away from the business end of Tonna's sword, and then extended a foot forward in order to trip him up. In a perfect world, the sword's tip would have found nothing but empty air and his opponent would have been sent stumbling on by him. Except that he hadn't quite had the time and space he needed and ended up taking a nick to the side. Or would have, had he not been wearing his leather armor and several other layers underneath. He'd improvise though and work with what he had. Swinging his own blade up and around, he aimed for Tonna's back while lifting his foot further in order to send the man sprawling.

And then so long as he could move quickly enough, Arlo followed and planted a foot on the man's back and place the tip of his sword at the back of Tonna's neck. "You really want to die over superstition? Nothing but a myth? Yield. Yield!" he shouted. Vega meanwhile had problems of her own that Arlo couldn't quite identify just yet and could do nothing about if he had.

Bart had gotten out of line, going places outside of the plan. Vega's head though had collided soundly with his nose though. Except that the insult didn't do much to discourage him. He'd howled in pain but gripped her tighter with one hand, while taking hold of her hair with his other and yanking hard so that it pulled her head back against his shoulder. Blood from his nose dripped into her hair and onto her own shoulder. His breath stunk of cheap liquor, greasy food and tobacco when his snarled into her ear. "That's a'right witch, I like it rough. Maybe we'll be having a little fun you and me before we burn you to a crisp. I've never had me a witch before."

[Vega]

Vega saw Tonna's sword nick Arlo and she gasped in fear, praying to Xiur that no blood came from her man this trial. Tonna could bleed all he liked the skanky idiot, as far as she was concerned he deserved it, but even that wasn't entirely true and Vega was pleased when Arlo tripped him, then stood on his back and put his sword against the back of Tonna's neck. She would have cheered, had she not been otherwise engaged, when Tonna let out a cry of frustration and rage. And there, of course, was the deciding moment, the very trill where Tonna had to make that decision, a yowl of rage came from Bart. Vega bit back a cry of her own as he pulled her Immortals' damned hair. She hated having her hair pulled and the feel of blood on her shoulder repulsed her. His hot, fetid breath against her made her want to crawl out of her skin. But Arlo had the one he was fighting down and ready to yield and Vega wasn't going to get in the way of that, so she did not yell.

Tonna let out a cry, "I yield!" Of course, he couldn't see what was going on, being face down in the dirt and so he couldn't see what was happening between Bart and Vega. He remained tense, though, like he fully expected Arlo to kill him despite having yielded. It was exactly what he expected and he closed his eyes in prayer.

Adam and the others were focused on the combat between Arlo and Tonna, so much so that Bart, the one who had called them infidels or, more precisely, "INFIDELS!" and his pawing of her was going entirely unnoticed by them. Or maybe, Vega thought, it wasn't. Maybe they just didn't care. So sure were they all that they were right, that she was a witch and Arlo was going to lose that they'd be just fine with letting Bart have his fun.

That was it, Vega realised as she caught Adam glancing at them but trying to seem like he wasn't. She was fair game as far as Adam was concerned. Was that true of all of them? She didn't know, the one Arlo had fought seemed like a genuine fanatic. Her mind reeled and Vega knew she had to get hold of a weapon. Bart's hands had been so busy grabbing roughly at her, he didn't think about the fact that he was leaving her hands free. Vega let out a low whimper when he told her that he liked it rough and she dropped a hand to his waist. She'd seen what she was looking for and, as her hand wrapped around the hilt of the knife he carried, Vega groaned in disgust at his hands and the dripping of blood she felt on her shoulder, again and she tried to find the dagger at his waist. As she did, she yelled. "ARLO! Look out!!" Whatever happened, with every intention she was going to stab Bart, Vega was warning Arlo. "It's Adam, he's lettin' this 'appen! GERROFF ME YOU PERVERT"

So, Bart and Vega were engaged in a very close embrace, Tonna the religious fanatic was on the ground. Just as she felt her fingers wrap around the hilt of the dagger, Vega stopped moving. The reason for that was that Adam and the other one, whose name they did not know, raised their crossbows once more, at Arlo. "Well now, this is unfortunate," Adam said, with a smile. "I'm afraid that Bart is rather taken with your witch and we're going to have to let him keep her."

"Arlo," Vega said, trying to make her voice sound like a whimper. She wasn't really very good at it, she didn't do helpless well at all. But she needed him to look at her. If he did, she simply beat out one, then two with one finger, or blinked it if he was looking in her eyes and hoped to all the Immortals that he went on three, also. Surely, she thought, everyone went on three? Either way, Vega grabbed Bart's dagger and she threw it at Adam. "DUCK!" She yelled, hopeful that Arlo would already be moving. Her aim wasn't great and she wasn't skilled with it, but that didn't matter, because Adam didn't know that. He saw the dagger flying towards him and he dived out of the way. Which meant that Vega was still very firmly in the clutches of Bart, Adam had dived out of the way and the one next to Adam lifted his bow and fired at Arlo.

Meanwhile, Tonna got up, scrabbling up with a look of confusion on his face. The young man was entirely fanatical and, having lost, it was proof that Vega was not the witch. "Unhand her!" He called to Bart and Vega groaned. U'frek save her from knightly types and their bloody useless need to pontificate.

[Arlo Creede]

It seemed like just a nick, nothing more than a scratch from the edge of Tonna's blade when he'd stumbled past. It was more than that if not much, and would bleed through several layers of clothing eventually. Though in the heat of the moment, Arlo didn't so much as feel it. There were far more important things to deal with. Like convincing the man at the tip of his blade to yield, then wrecking the one that had hold of Vega. The others, well, he couldn't do much but ignore them at present.

And just when Arlo was starting to think he wouldn't, Tonna yielded. Some men would have killed him anyway. But not Arlo. There was a chance that standing down would be a mistake. But doing otherwise was dishonorable and he wouldn't have it on his conscience. But then conscience and honor meant nothing at all when he saw and heard what Bart was doing to Vega. Raising his sword again, he stalked towards them, growling, "Let her go," and thinking nothing of the others who might have weapons trained on him. But then he caught the look on Vega's face and saw the shifting colors in her eyes. She was up to something, for all the good it might do them, being outnumbered the way they were.

He didn't doubt there were bows trained on him and when Vega shouted duck, Arlo did. But he didn't just drop or it might have ended right there. He suspected it wouldn't. He rolled, intending to find his knees then his feet again as Vega hurled a knife past him. At some point he'd be grateful that he'd done the more honorable thing and not ended Tonna, since the man was currently, apparently, moving to intervene on their behalf, preventing Adam from loading up his bow again. It was one last combatant firing on him or trying to run him through.

As the fourth, nameless man began to raise his bow, Arlo rolled up onto his knees and reached inside the edge of his coat for his smaller bow that was always there, loaded and ready to go with a flick of a thumb on the safety. It was that one he grabbed, raised and fired, his bolt sailing into the man's jugular. The large man dropped, clutching at his throat while blood spewed out like a fountain between his fingers.